


Broken

by organisedchaos



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M, Suicide, stan uris took a bath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 01:27:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14125152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/organisedchaos/pseuds/organisedchaos
Summary: a little thing based loosely on lyrics in the song 102 by The 1975 and the prompt ‘how you said i love you: when i’m dead'let me know if i should add anymore tags, this is my first post on here!





	Broken

Taking those first steps back into the house was hard. It was quiet, far too quiet without the hum of the dryer or the soft sound of singing drifting through the house. Richie felt like he was suffocating in the silence and as he stood alone in the living room, he wished he’d taken up Bill’s earlier offer to go with him.

“I’ll be fine Big Bill, I can handle it on my own”

“Yeah sh-sh-sure Rich but the pu-puh-point is you don’t ha-have to!”

He’d looked at him with warmth in his blue eyes and Richie knew that if he changed his mind about going by himself, Bill would be there without hesitation because behind the warmth was something else, a knowing look that only Bill Denbrough could express. 

He’s been there too, he’s lost someone, he understands.

But this was something he needed to do on his own. 

It had been almost three weeks since the last time Richie had been home and everything looked just the same as it had the on day he’d left. The newspaper he’d brought home was still on the coffee table, the jacket he’d been wearing was still carelessly thrown over the back of the sofa,

the vase the EMT knocked over trying to maneuver the stairs was still in pieces on the floor.

That vase - blue tinted glass with hand painted red flowers - as soon as Stan saw it, it was love at first sight. He’d gasped softly as he held it up examining it, brown eyes sparkling

“It’s perfect, I know exactly where we should put it”.

Richie had grimaced, personally he thought the vase was ugly, but seeing the pure joy on Stan’s face, he melted. Stan could buy a hundred ugly vases for all Richie cared, if it made Stan smile like that, then nothing else mattered.

He looked at the shattered pieces on the floor, wanting, needing for them to somehow piece back together.

Please

But just like his heart, the vase stayed in bits.

When he finally tore his gaze from the shards of glass his eyes were wet beneath his glasses and he wiped at them furiously,

you can do this Tozier,

but he was shaking. Each step he took as he slowly made his way up the stairs was harder than the last and he found himself having to stop midway and grab hold of the banister to keep himself steady.

Deep breaths Richie.

How many times had he said that to Stan? When he’d wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, screaming about bodies and paintings and clowns.

“Shhh baby, deep breaths you’re okay, you’re safe, i’m here i promise. I won’t let anything hurt you.” He would whisper as he held Stan close, rubbing gentle circles on his back and placing small kisses on his sweat soaked curls. It would happen every so often, the nightmares would return and the light in Stan’s eyes would dull in the following days after. He was a shell of who he was in those days but Richie always seemed to pull him back, slowly but surely the light would come back.

But not this time.

 

He pushed himself to go up the last few steps and stood looking at the closed bathroom door, he didn’t need to open it, he already knew what he’d find if he did. It was ingrained into his mind, stuck with him forever.

A new pair of khakis and a periwinkle blue polo shirt neatly folded on the toilet seat, the haunting sound of a dripping tap, a limp arm hanging over the edge of the tub, wet curls falling over a lifeless pale face, and the blood - so much blood. Richie was was paralysed, stuck in a nightmare looking at the body of the man he’d loved since childhood. Everything was a blur after that. Richie didn’t remember calling the emergency services or screaming hysterically into Mike’s shoulder as they both wept for the boy with bright eyes and gentle smile, the boy who loved birds and had a peculiar sense of humour, Stanley Uris the boy who turned into a man haunted by his past.

 

I can’t do this.

Still biting back tears, he passed by the bathroom in favour of their bedroom. Stan had decorated it with soft colours and furnishings, minimal yet homely, it was his favourite room. It was almost serene, everything where it should be apart from one thing out of place, one of Stan’s shirt was pressed and folded sitting on the bed. Richie made to put it away

it should be in the closet, Stan hates when things aren’t put away

but as soon as he touched the soft fabric and brought it to his face the resolve he’d had since setting foot inside the house became undone and he let the sobs rush over his tall frame in waves. The shirt still smelled like Stan, fresh and clean, with hints of the lavender detergent he loved so much, but mainly it smelled like home. Richie’s home. He didn’t know how long he lay there, crying himself into exhaustion. It was impossible to move, he just stayed, still clutching the shirt of his beloved, unable to contemplate how it would ever be possible to live without him.

I’m sorry Stan, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t save you. I love you, I love you so much.

**Author's Note:**

> this made me super sad writing it, i appreciate any feedback! (im sunshinestanley on tumblr if anyone wants to say hi!)


End file.
